Distraction
by ChiefPam
Summary: Vincent has a mission to complete. He can't afford to be distracted by anything. But he can't get Catherine out of his head. One-shot. **Consolidated w/other stories into "Emotional States"


**Distraction**

by ChiefPam

* * *

_A/N This is a short re-cap of "Who Am I" – my attempt to get inside Vincent's head. Which is hard to do when he's holding so many secrets. But there were some things I wanted to explore._

* * *

Zhao is dead. That's good. My mission can continue. But I can't concentrate on it right now. My mind won't let go of her.

Catherine Chandler.

There's something about the sound of her name; her name means something to me. Except it doesn't. And I know, I was told she's no one I need to worry about. That she's a distraction, which I can't afford right now. I obey orders. But… my CO seemed to know the name. Hard to say, through the distortion effects, but there was no moment of thought, no requests that I repeat the name. I think he recognized it.

Or maybe he just really didn't care about anything but the mission. Anyone would be a distraction.

And the mission was advanced tonight. I should be pleased about that, but I don't feel much of anything. I try to avoid feelings. Feelings are a distraction, they get in the way of my mission, my orders. A week ago, that was perfectly clear and obvious. I had a job to do, and I did it, end of story.

But I keep seeing her face. She looks at me as if I'm the most important thing in her world.

She knows about the beast. When I first saw her, I was transformed. But she recognized me, and called me by name. I was angry that she'd interrupted my kill, and at first, I thought she might be part of Muirfield.

She was scared of me.

Not nearly as scared as she should have been, it occurred to me later. When I'm on the hunt I'm focused on what *is* not analyzing how it should be. She was scared as I was approaching her. Thinking back, I can hear her heart racing. But she wasn't terrified, she wasn't running. She just kept saying my name.

I don't know what would have happened if the other two hadn't shown up. I was angry, and fully in beast mode, but I didn't see her as a threat. She was unexpected, a distraction. But not dangerous to me. If I hadn't been sure then, I was later. Catherine was no threat to me.

Not physically, anyway.

She sure got in the way of my mission. Twice, she kept me from killing my prey. I don't know how she found me, either time.

There's history there. It was clear from her words, her eyes, her reactions. And from what the other guy, JT, had said. What the hell did "borderline epic" mean? It shouldn't matter. I had a job to do, a mission, and that was the only important thing.

I couldn't dismiss her, thought. When I'm on the hunt, nothing distracts me. Normally. But there I was, in the lab, ready to kill Zhao – looking forward to it – and she disrupted my concentration, my focus.

My mission should have been paramount. No one was hitting me with tranquilizer darts. She entered that room of her own free will; she took that risk all on her own. I had no responsibility for her. There was no reason I couldn't have finished Zhao.

If it had been any other human being coughing in that laboratory, I would have had no trouble ignoring them. The only reason anyone should have been there was because they were with Muirfield, which I was committed to destroying. They'd have been an unimportant detail, barely worth noticing.

But because it was her – Catherine – I couldn't tune her out. Because she looked at me like I was important. Because she felt important to me. At that moment, in the lab, I had to choose, and instead of finishing my mission, I chose to save her.

That was strange. Even more strange was her reaction afterwards. Normal people would have been freaked out at jumping out a tenth story window. That was exploding. Not her.

She just smiled, not the least bit astonished at my abilities or my actions. She said that was how we'd met – me saving her. Like me saving her was a normal, natural thing, to be expected. I have used my abilities to kill. I don't remember ever using them to rescue, or to protect. But she does.

Her reactions confused me – still confuse me. The way she was smiling at me, it was impossible to leave her there. It was hard to fathom how I could be so important to anyone. I'm a valuable asset, I know that. Zhao said I was a valuable weapon, and he's right. I'm a highly-trained, uniquely equipped super soldier. I can get results.

But Catherine… all she wanted was for me to be there. Even though I'm not who she wants me to be, she still wanted me to be there. So I took her home, allowed her to order me around, and watched as she said impossible things. Fall in love? That's not something I could ever do. Is it? It's not part of the job. A distraction I can't afford. Her absolute certainty, though, was impossible to dismiss.

She was upset about Muirfield, and was willing to help me find Zhao – as if I needed her help. I didn't have any idea how she thought she could help, or why she would want to. She said she trusted me, but I couldn't trust her. She cannot find out who I am now, what I'm doing.

She so clearly cared about me. She wasn't mad at me for failing to perform to her expectations. She was almost in tears because she thought *I* had been hurt. I felt bad about that. She made me feel things, things I don't even recognize. And she asked me to stay with her. I'm not sure why I agreed to that. I'm not even sure why I kissed her, but with her that close, I couldn't think of anything else. She's beautiful, of course, but it was the way she looked at me. The way she loved me. I felt drawn to her.

I'm not sure what she saw on her phone, but it must have been the last straw. She'd been very highly strung most of the time I'd known her, but at that moment, she started to fall apart. I didn't know how to react. Part of me wanted nothing more than to escape, to avoid dealing with such strong emotions. But when she came towards me, arms open, tears falling… I let her hug me, to hold on to me, and I held her, too.

It felt so strange to hold someone, just to give and receive comfort. Holding her made me feel better – and worse, too, somehow. Less dead inside, but with life comes pain. She made me feel things. Things I had no expectation of, things I didn't deserve. I was a killer. That was what I did. Get in, get it done, get out, get on with the next step. Simple. There was no part of my job description that allowed for holding a woman as she cried.

She didn't cry for very long, but she didn't want to let go of me, either. I tried suggesting that she should get some sleep – she looked exhausted – but she didn't want to leave me. The solution to that was obvious, and we ended up lying on her bed. Fully clothed. She was just so tired. So I let her hold on to me as she slowly fell asleep.

As she was nearing sleep, I caught a trace scent. It was very faint, very old, but familiar. It was me. I had been in that room, only months ago, probably many times. That didn't really surprise me, given what she'd said and done earlier, but it was just one more piece of evidence. One more thing to confuse me.

No matter what had happened before, things were different now. I was different, and I had important things to do. Like, for instance, kill Zhao. Catherine had kept me from it twice, but once she was asleep, I was able to leave.

In one day, she'd made me feel so many things. Feelings were a liability in my line of work, a vulnerability I did not need. I needed to avoid her. She didn't know where I lived or what I would be doing next, so she wouldn't be able to find me. I never needed to see her again. That would be best.

For some reason, though, I can't quite believe it will be that simple.

And I'm not sure I want it to be.

The End


End file.
